INTRUDER ALERT!
by middleagefanboy
Summary: A parody of Star Trek: The Next Generation, wherein the Enterprise D meets its most challenging & pesky threat ever...


_"Captain's Log: Stardate 41201.8. _

_We are en route to the planet Moska IV, near the Klingon border for a routine survey. The crew are performing as efficiently as ever. It's so gratifying to see how we've come to function together as a cohesive unit over the past two years. At any rate, I anticipate our flight to Moska IV to be uneventful."_

Until...

"Captain", Data said from his ops console on the bridge, "I'm registering a possible intruder. It just emerged from a sensor blind spot. Somewhere in the engineering section. Moving at rapid speeds..."

"Confirmed sir," said Klingon security chief Worf, "intruder appears to be very swift and very small."

Picard was concerned, "Does it threaten the ship?"

Worf shook his ridged head, "Unknown, captain."

Picard turned to Data, "Where did it come from, Mr. Data?"

Data looked puzzled, "I am not sure, sir. Due to its small size, it is possible that it stowed aboard at our last resupply at Starbase 76."

Picard turned to Counselor Troi, "Do you sense anything from this intruder, Deanna?"

Troi seemed puzzled, "It's thoughts are very primitive. Almost _animalistic_. I can't get a clear mental image from it."

Picard was insistent, "Anything would be useful, counselor."

"It's thoughts are so primitive. It is a creature of powerful instincts... and perhaps cunning."

Riker put a finger to his chin, "Could it be sentient, Deanna?"

"Unknown. From what I sense it could be very hungry; or very... amorous."

Riker's eyes widened.

Picard called down to engineering, "Engineering. Geordi, are you there?"

Geordi LaForge answered promptly, "LaForge here captain. I was monitoring. We read the intruder as well. Just came out of nowhere..."

Data ran his fingers over his console to attain more information, "Sensors reveal the intruder to be insectoid. Capable of winged flight. Captain, it appears to be what used to be called a common housefly."

Picard swallowed, visibly shaken, "Did you say..._ a house fly?_"

"Yes, sir."

Said Picard, "But I thought all houseflies went extinct after the post atomic horror of the mid 21st century."

"Apparently," offered Data, "some survived and made it out into space."

Riker's eyes locked with Picard and both men nodded; a plan of action was needed.

Riker turned to Worf, "Mr. Worf? What sort of armament would we need to overpower this thing?"

Worf looked away, as if formulating an answer, then turned back in the direction of the first officer and captain Picard, "Phasers would be ineffective. The target is much too small. It's size means it could gain access to critical systems; communication, life support... even the ship's supply of fresh ice cream could be contaminated."

Picard put a palm to his face, "_Merde_...", then looked up and around to his key staff, "Conference!"

In the observation lounge, the six members of the senior staff including Dr. Beverly Crusher were assembled. Picard began, "Alright. We have an intruder aboard. Very small and very swift. Capable of gaining access to many critical systems and possibly contaminating them. It is a species thought to be extinct on Earth. But it's here now, and it is a possible contaminant. Many areas are potential targets. Even our fresh ice cream supply..."

Beverly's jaw went slack, she then murmured, "I'd better not tell Wesley..."

"Doctor", began Picard, "I really think you should tell the boy. He has the right to face this danger, just like the rest of us."

"You've never been a parent, Jean-Luc..."

"Please don't ever call me that. Now, as I was saying, do we have any defenses against this intruder? Worf, you said earlier that phasers on stun couldn't reliably hit the target. What else do we have?"

"I could post security teams throughout the ship with what I believe they used to call swatters-"

"Inquiry", said Data, "the word 'swatters'?"

Riker chimed in, "Fly swatters, Data. An elongated plastic handle with a flat flexible end used to swat flies back in the primitive days of the 20th century..."

"Killing it is NOT an option yet," Said Picard, "this is a living entity, this 'fly-thing'. It cannot be simply swatted into oblivion without any sort of communication or a better understanding of its purpose. Counselor, have you made any progress establishing a link with this... fly?"

"No sir," frowned Troi. Then she added, "the last time it imparted information to me, I sensed that it was roaming the ship with impunity. It doesn't view us as a threat to it,"

Picard said in a defeated tone, "We're _nothing_ to it..."

"Exactly," said Troi.

Picard looked to Geordi LaForge, the chief engineer, "Geordi? It's in your section. It could contaminate many vital systems. What is your recommendation, commander?"

LaForge tugged on his uniform, "Well, I suggest anesthetic gas on all engine levels, but I can't say whether or not it would work; the intruder is so tiny. Another option would be to reroute auxiliary power from the secondary power distribution buffers, then amplify it at several key junctures and use that potential energy towards creating force fields around all of the threatened systems."

Blank stares followed.

"Would that work?" Riker asked.

"Mmm, it's a shot in the dark. This thing might make a move well before we even have a chance to do any of that. The work alone could take several hours."

Picard rubbed his eyes. "_Merde_", he uttered yet again. "Any more recommendations?"

Data cocked an eyebrow, "I have memorized every anatomical treatise and textbook on houseflies from the ship's computer. If my information is correct, the common house fly tended to live off of fecal matter, decaying life forms and other things that emit powerful and offensive odors. And speaking of 'merde' captain, perhaps if we place generous quantities of fresh dung at critical junctures, we can lure the intruder out into the open."

"That sounds terribly messy, Data. Remember, we have families aboard. The risks of stepping in it and dragging it about the ship's carpeting are simply too great. What about communication?" Picard insisted.

Troi shook her head, "It's so... basic, captain. Very difficult to establish a mental link with my empathic abilities."

"Please try, Deanna", asked Picard, persistently.

Deanna closed her eyes and put a finger to her temple, searching the corridors of the ship with her mind... looking for the intruder. She found it. Her eyes widened. Her empathic sense was in tune with the housefly's. She stood up from her chair. She then unexpectedly jumped up onto the conference table and began to flap her arms very rapidly. Her voice assumed a shrill, nasal inflection, **_"Eat-mate-eat-mate-eat-mate-eat-mate..."_**

Everyone's eyes widened.

Picard looked at Deanna and put his hands up in a non-threatening gesture, "We mean you no harm... we wish to communicate with you. Is there anything we can do for you?"

Deanna looked around the observation lounge, continuing to flap her arms,_** "Eat-mate-eat-mate-eat-mate-eat..."**_

Worf pulled out his phaser.

"No!" Shouted Picard, "You'll only be firing on Deanna..."

Worf holstered his phaser, "I just wanted her to be quiet."

Picard turned to Data, "Mr. Data, can we communicate with the intruder through counselor Troi?"

Data shook his head, "It would seem unlikely, sir. She seems intent only on eating and mating. Perhaps Commander Riker would be best suited to this particular task..."

Riker shot Data a look that could've overloaded his neural net.

Picard gave Riker a reassuring look, "I'm sure he didn't mean it that way, Will."

Deanna then jumped off the table, still flapping her arms. Running about the room, she seem trapped, panicked. As she ran in random patterns, she ran into the lounge's commemorative wall of miniature starships (all named Enterprise). Bumping her head on the Enterprise C, she slumped to the deck.

_"Beverly!" _ Picard yelled.

Dr. Crusher quickly ran up to the unconscious Deanna Troi, "I need to get her to sickbay, Jean-Luc..."

"I said don't call me that. And belay that, Doctor. I have an idea. Can you wake her?"

"I think so, but she was in a highly agitated state. I'm worried about-"

"Then wake her. I believe she can help us. She's been in the intruder's mind. She might have some valuable intelligence and insight to share with us..."

Crusher gave Troi a quick hypospray. Troi's eyes fluttered as she came around. "Captain?" She asked wearily, "Is everyone alright? I didn't eat or mate with anyone, did I?"

"No, Deanna. You didn't. What can you tell us about our guest?"

"It is a housefly, captain. Quite tenacious. Too small and wily to be easily captured. It wants to eat or mate. But since it is all alone on the ship with no others of its kind, then mating is out. I suggest we supply it with what it wants... _food_."

"Captain!" Worf barked, "It IS just a fly. I suggest we post security teams with swatters on all decks."

Picard spoke sharply and raised a finger in the direction of Worf, "That is a LAST resort, Mr. Worf. I do not want to kill this creature unless it leaves us no other option."

"Or threatens the ship's ice cream supply," offered Riker.

"Precisely", agreed Picard.

Worf growled, "Understood."

"Deanna", began Picard, getting Troi back onto her feet, "When you were in contact with the fly's mind, where was it?"

"It was in the air ducts... near the warp core."

"Alright. We'll go to engineering... I have a plan. Let's just hope it doesn't find its way into the ship's ice cream supply by then. Tonight is banana with pralines. But if the intruder manages to contaminate the ice cream supply..."

The crew exhaled in unison; they knew the stakes.

"Let's go", said Picard.

In the engine room, the vertical warp core stack glowed with throbbing rings of blue energy running up and down its column. Troi was a bit wobbly on her feet, but Crusher ruled out a concussion. She did have a slight starship shaped bruise on her forehead, but was otherwise alright. Picard took her by the hand to steady her, "Now Deanna, where were you-er, the intruder? Up there, you said? In the air vent near the warp core?"

Troi had a terse expression on her face; she now felt a certain antagonism towards this miniature beast that invaded her mind and helped her to make a fool of herself in front of her shipmates, "Yes sir. It's here. Watching us... waiting us out."

"Alright, Troi," said Picard, who then turned to Riker, Data and Geordi, "Gentlemen. Implement the plan..."

Riker turned to the wall replicator, "Computer. One bowl of honey. Extra sweet. Slightly warm."

The replicator glowed and left a newly formed bowl of warm honey.

Data picked it up very carefully, his android reflexes being extra careful not to spill it. Could get onto the soles of everyone's shoes...

He carefully placed it on the rails by the engine core. There was a slight vibration but not enough to spill it.

"Well done, commander", said Picard in admiration. "Alright now... come and get it."

Troi grimaced, in contact with the creature, "No. It knows you set a trap for it. It won't make it easy for us... it'll wait. Until we open up the ice cream..."

"This HAS to work. It simply has to... the old phrase, 'you catch more flies with honey', it.. it HAS to work."

Crusher looked perplexed, "Is it possible this is some kind of mutated fly?"

Riker cocked his head to the side, "Do you mean... a 'Super Fly?' "

Data continued matter-of-factly, "The last recorded creatures were thought to be eliminated during World War Three. But perhaps the radiation of the post atomic horror created some new strain of... super flies."

Picard turned pale, "Then it could've lived quietly for centuries... buzzing about, annoying humans for hundreds of years. Getting into their ice cream..."

"Precisely, captain," said Data, "We may have to re-think our strategy."

Riker looked at Picard, "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

Picard met his gaze, "We need out of the box thinking on this. Beverly... get the boy."

"You mean my son, captain? Wesley Crusher?"

"The boy, doctor! Now! Before it's too late..."

Wesley Crusher came down to the engine room and looked around tentatively, then saw his mother, "Mom? You said there was an intruder here, and you needed MY help? Jeez. Adults asking for my help..."

"Oh come now, Wes," Crusher said, "You save the ship almost _every_ week..."

"And yet no one here treats me like an adult. No one respects me-"

Picard barked, _"Shut up, Wesley!" _

Wesley looked down at his feet.  
Data stepped between the three of them, "Wesley, we do need your help. The intruder is small, very difficult to apprehend. And the captain is adamant that we do not kill it or injure it. Much to Lt. Worf's dismay."

Worf growled the Klingon word for 'pansies' under his breath.

Data continued, "At any rate, we have attempted communication. Counselor Troi injured herself while accessing the creature's mind. We put out a bowl of warm honey in an effort to trap it, but to no avail, we-"

Wesley interrupted, "What about beaming it out?"

Picard squinted, "What was that, boy?"

"Um... we have the transporter system which is capable of intra-ship beaming. Data could lock onto the intruder with sensors and Geordi could beam it into a jar."

Picard and Riker looked at each other and nodded. Picard agreed, "Very well, make it so... _damn kid."_

A short time later, Picard was in sickbay holding a glass jar with tiny air holes phasered into the aluminum lid. In it, the house fly buzzed about; trapped and seeming a bit upset.

"Of all of the threats to the ship we've faced thus far, this one was so... _pernicious_."

Crusher walked up behind him and whispered in his ear, "And my son saved the day... and ice cream night."

"Yes, he did, didn't he? I suppose I should promote him to acting ship's pest control service."

"I think he would appreciate that."

"I'll ship the quartermaster make him a set of appropriate coveralls. I think he'll like them more than that ridiculous rainbow sweater you made for him for Christmas."

Crusher looked at the fly jar, "Now, what do we DO with our little friend here? Do we find a planet for it to inhabit? Do we contaminate a new planet's ecology with its presence? Upset the natural balance? Do we violate the prime directive simply to relieve ourselves of an annoyance?"

Picard reached for his combadge, "Picard to Mr. Data. I need you and Mr Worf in my ready room in five minutes."

Picard brusquely left sickbay with the jar clenched in his hand.

In his ready room off of the main bridge, Picard, Worf and Data were in conference. Riker was there too, even though his presence wasn't requested; he had to justify his role on the ship somehow. "Gentlmen... Will. I have a plan."

All eyes were upon the jar.

"Mr Worf? How does the Klingon homeworld _smell_?"

Worf folded his arms, "By your human standards? Somewhat strongly..."

"Do Klingons really hate bathing that badly?"

"Yes sir. There are no Klingon words for soap and deodorant."

"As I suspected. We'll take our little friend there... he'll fit right in. The Klingons won't even notice him."

Data cocked his head, "_Intriguing_..."

Riker shook his head, "I don't know, Captain. What excuse will we give to Starfleet or the Klingon High Command for going to Kronos?"

"I've not quite figured that one out, yet. How about, 'we got lost'?"

Riker grimaced, "I don't think so, sir."

Data chimed in, "We could adjust the ship's shields to emit a tachyonic field of dense neutrino emissions. If we modulate the field, we could then manipulate it to refract light in a very specific manner."

Blank stares ensued.

Data continued, "We would create a cloaking device."

Riker looked at Picard, "But wouldn't that violate the Treaty of Algeron? A Federation ship using a cloaking device?"

"Will", Picard began, "this type of pest could live for up to 30 days. And if it is indeed a mutant super fly, it could even live for centuries. We can't keep it locked up for it's entire life span; that would be cruel. And if the jar breaks? It could threaten ice cream night again."

Riker nodded grimly; it was the only way...

Picard hit his combadge, "Picard to LaForge; I need you to work with Mr. Data to alter the shield grid. He'll report to engineering. Bridge? Set course for Kronos... maximum warp!"

Several hours later, after a cloaked Enterprise beamed its 'uninvited guest' onto the surface of the Klingon homeworld, it had settled into its new home; a nice warm pile of Targ dung in an open field in the rural Kehta province. The ambient smell of the entire planet seemed to be one of body odor, blood, Targ dung and cheap cologne. The super fly was home... and unbeknownst to all; _**pregnant**_.

Back on the Enterprise bridge Picard asked acting ensign, helm officer (and ship's pest control) Wesley Crusher, "Are we clear of Klingon space?"

"Not yet sir."

Troi suddenly beamed a great smile, "Captain? I'm feeling something... from Kronos. Not the usual dull, mindlessly aggressive thoughts of Klingons..."

Worf muttered something that rhymed with D'vich...

"... but something different. Great satisfaction. Pure joy. A feeling of great belonging. I believe it's from the intruder. It now feels... at home."

Picard smiled, "I'm so glad, Deanna. We weighed its need and right to life against our own. We put aside our instincts and our hatreds and reached a mutual understanding that preserved both of our ways of life."

Worf rolled his eyes. Riker felt a gag reflex. Wesley muttered under his breath, "_Grownups_..."

Picard heard him and shot him a stern look, "Shut up, Wesley!"

********************** THE END ************************


End file.
